Char's Story
by Grace3
Summary: Finished! Pretty self-explanatory. Ella Enchanted from Char's POV, from the infamous letter to the ending, plus a little beyond that, culminating in fluff and more fluff.
1. Ella Enchants Char

**A/N**: I do not own any of these characters, the plot, the setting, etc. They all belong to the wonderful mind of Gail Carson Levine. I simply took one of the characters and wrote what I thought he would be feeling. Hopefully it all flows smoothly enough. =)

**A/N update**: _It has been YEARS since I wrote this story, and I just recently re-discovered it. Ella Enchanted still remains, after all of this time (and a rather disappointing movie) one of my favorite books. I first read it when I was 12, wrote this fic when I was 17, and am now in my twenties. Gail Carson Levine's novel truly brought a fairy tale to life for me, fleshing out the characters in a way that completely captured my heart. (I might still have a little crush on Char.)  
_

_Anyway, this fic was the first story of length I had ever written, and it definitely reflects that, as well as the whims of my teenaged self. (Read: there's a lot of fluff and not much plot.) Consider this my official disclaimer. :)_

* * *

_-ELLA ENCHANTS CHAR-_

Prince Charmont stood beside his father, King Jerrold, trying very hard to stay alert while the High Chancellor droned on and on about paying allegiance to the rulers of Kyrria, and lots of other pointless dribble that had absolutely nothing to do with the funeral for Lady Eleanor. Char barely was able to stifle a yawn. He shifted his gaze to the people around the room. Lords and ladies and almost all of Frell had attended the funeral. He observed a man absentmindedly sticking his finger up his nose, and quickly looked away when the man noticed someone watching him. Char's eyes searched wildly for something else to rest upon, and finally settled on a beautiful girl. She was standing beside Sir Peter, the widower of Lady Eleanor. Char looked from the Lady Eleanor in her coffin to the girl, and realized that it must be her daughter. It was Ella. She was wearing a black silk mourning gown, and her long, dark, flowing hair was pulled back from her face. She had the brightest green eyes he had ever seen. She looked as though she was going to burst into tears at any moment.

He watched her as she stepped forward to close her mother's coffin. She closed it slowly, and it clicked shut. She stood there for a moment, looking as if she was going to faint. Suddenly, she burst into tears. Her father approached her and held her, trying to quiet her, but she pushed him away and ran for the door. She pulled it open and slipped through the opening, still sobbing. Char immediately felt his heart go out to her, and he decided that maybe he could go after her and offer some words of comfort.

After a short while of searching, Char found Ella. She was underneath a willow tree, crying her heart out. It was a wrenching sight. She was crouched over on her knees underneath the leaves of the tree, her hands over her face. Her soft crying noises could be heard from where Char was standing, just outside the curtain of the leaves of the great willow. He decided to wait until she was under better control of her emotions, until she was a little more pulled together, before he tried approaching her. If he spoke to her, he did not want to startle her or make her feel uncomfortable. He walked slowly towards the gravestones, looking at names and birth dates of relatives lost long ago.

After a few minutes or so, he noticed Ella pushing her way through the canopy of leaves towards where he was standing. She approached very hesitantly, and distanced herself from him with a bit of caution upon her face. He wanted so much to say something just right, something that would bring a smile to her face and wipe away her sad expression, but he found that he couldn't think, not with her standing so near and looking at him like she was. He found himself feeling strangely self-conscious. She was very pretty. . .

Char racked his brain, but failed to think of anything interesting. He had to say _something_. He gestured toward the tombstone he was standing in front of.

"Cousin of mine. Never liked him. I liked your mother."

Ella remained silent. Char started walking back toward Lady Eleanor's tomb. Ella started walking beside him, but still kept the hesitant distance between them. Char gathered his courage and closed the space a little.

"You can call me Char," he said. "Everyone else does."

Silence. Char stole a side-long glance at her. She was very intent on keeping her eyes upon the ground. Maybe she was shy. He tried again.

"My father calls me Char, too."

A slight pause.

"Thank you." Her voice trembled a little, after so much crying. He liked the way it sounded. He thought maybe if she was in a joyful mood, her voice could almost sound like singing. He wanted very badly to cheer her up. He found himself longing to see what she looked like when she smiled.

"Your mother used to make me laugh. Once, at a banquet, Chancellor Thomas was making a speech. While he talked, your mother moved her napkin around. I saw it before your father crumpled it up. She had arranged the edge in the shape of the Chancellor's profile, with the mouth stuck open and the chin stuck out. It would have looked exactly like him if he were the color of a blue napkin. I had to leave without dinner so I could go outside and laugh."

Ella was no longer staring at the ground. She was looking up at him, and her eyes were sad with the remembrance of her mother. Char cursed himself. He shouldn't have brought up her mother again! He had wanted to bring joy to those eyes, not pain. There was another long pause.

"Where did everyone go?" she asked.

"They all left before I came to find you. Did you want them to wait?" Maybe he should have asked them to while he went to find her. He had thought that she would want to be alone and escape all of their prying eyes. But maybe she didn't like his company and was hoping that there were others still at the tomb, paying their last respects. All of a sudden he felt very stupid. Of course. How rude of him to think that she would maybe want to be friends.

"No, I didn't want any of them to wait."

Oh.

"I know all about you," he said.

"You do? How could you?"

"Your cook and our cook meet at the market. She talks about you." He gave her another side-long glance. "Do you know much about me?"

"No."

Darn.

"What do you know?" she asked.

"I know you can imitate people just as Lady Eleanor could. Once you imitated your manservant to his face, and he wasn't sure if he was the servant or you were. You make up your own fairy tales and you drop things and trip over things. I know you once broke a whole set of dishes."

"I slipped on ice!" she replied indignantly.

"Ice chips you spilled before you slipped on them." He laughed, remembering the funny way Cook had pantomimed Ella falling and landing on her behind like a sack of potatoes.

"An accident," she protested, and she smiled.

She _smiled_. It was the most wonderful thing; it made her whole face light up, and brought warmth and laugher to her eyes. He wanted to etch it on his memory forever, for it would surely bring light whenever darkness came.

They reached her father, waiting by their carriage. He bowed.

"Thank you, Highness, for accompanying my daughter."

Char returned the bow, thinking he would be glad to do it as often as Ella would let him.

"Come, Eleanor," said Sir Peter.

Ella frowned.

"Ella. I'm Ella."

Sir Peter's eyebrows gave a slight twitch of annoyance.

"Ella then. Come, Ella." He bowed again, and stepping into the waiting carriage.

Char stepped forward, to assist Ella. He was expecting to grasp her hand and help her in, but instead he wound up with the middle of her arm and she had to grasp the other side of the carriage before she lost her balance. He closed the door after her. There was a ripping sound, and Char looked down to see a piece of Ella's gown stuck in the crack in the door. He started laughing when he saw Ella's face. He was still laughing as the carriage pulled away and disappeared under the trees.

Later that evening, Char realized that he couldn't stop thinking about her.

Ella. Ella of Frell.

He repeated her name over and over to himself, thinking about her sweet voice that was almost like singing. He imagined her saying his name, and how it would sound. Like a song, or a whispering breeze, if she said it softly. Char would give anything to hear her do that.

Ella and Char. The names fit well together, like two pieces of a puzzle. It had a nice ring to it. Ella and Char. Char and Ella. Perfect.

When would he see her again? Would she think it strange if he just happened to stop by her manor for a visit? Or maybe he could conveniently run into her if she went to the market, or visited the menagerie. Or maybe she didn't like him and didn't want to see him again.

No, that wasn't possible. She had smiled at him in that special way. He was certain she wouldn't have given him the gift of that smile if she didn't at least like him a little bit.

All that Char knew was that he liked her, very, very much, and he definitely wanted to see her again. She had barely spoken two words to him, but he felt. . . oddly drawn to her, and not just by her appearance. He was intrigued and interested by the enigma of her personality, too. He wanted to learn more about her.

Who knows?, Char thought. Maybe I will see her again, very soon.

And he smiled to himself, reflecting on the day he met Ella of Frell.


	2. A Chance Meeting

**A/N**: Characters belong to Gail Carson Levine, etc. I hadn't originally planned on continuing the story, but I have decided to do so because so many reviewers requested it. =) Enjoy.

- - - A CHANCE MEETING - - -

Char couldn't believe his good luck.

He had been quietly walking through the menagerie, thinking about how he could "accidentally" run into Ella at the market. He had been running through all of the different ways that they could meet. She would be with her cook, browsing through a fruit cart or something of that sort, and she would notice a perfectly round orange that she thought would be delicious with lunch. Char would just happen to be out on a jaunt with his younger sister, and he would notice the self-same orange. He would reach out his hand to take it so he could examine it further for bruises or spots, and at the same time Ella would be reaching out her hand. . .

That's when he saw her. He thought it most strange that he should meet her like this, all while he was dreaming of ways to meet her unexpectedly. It was as if his imaginings had jumped out of his brain and started playing out around him in real life.

She was near a herd of centaurs, and was offering one of them a tiny morsel of cheese. She was slightly bent over, her arm outstretched. She wore her long dark hair flowing freely about her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed with the excitement of the centaur allowing her to come so near. Char watched silently as she smiled her gorgeous smile at the centaur and inched closer to offer him the cheese. He marveled to himself about how she could look so beautiful no matter where she was, no matter what the circumstances.

He himself stepped closer to where she was, and reached into a pocket in his cloak. Aha! The apples he had picked from the royal apple trees in the royal orchard this morning were still there. Perfect!

"Here," he said, presenting a shiny, red apple to Ella.

She turned, and he delighted in the expression on her face when she first saw him and realized who he was: it was happiness; the joy of meeting a friend or someone you like. She accepted the apple.

"Thank you," she said. She immediately turned back to the centaur, who, upon seeing the apple, trotted toward her with hands outstretched. She tossed the apple, and Char noted that she had very good aim. He smiled to himself. He was liking her better and better.

"I always expect them to thank me or to say, 'How dare you stare?'"

She was speaking. He had forgotten everything; he had been lost in smiling at her.

"They're not smart enough to talk. See how blank their eyes are."

Char felt like punching himself. Now she was going to think he was a know- it-all. Great. Way to go, Char. You sure do have a way with the ladies!

"If they had words, they wouldn't be able to think of anything to say," she said.

Char was surprised. He had not been expecting a joke. She was making him like her even more. He laughed, happy that she didn't seem to think he was a know-it-all after all. Maybe he was just over-analyzing things. Again.

"That's funny! You're funny. As the Lady Eleanor was."

His stupidity was unbelievable. Probably the last thing she wanted was to be reminded of was her dead mother. Char decided that maybe punching himself wouldn't be the best idea. He thought that throwing himself off a cliff would be much more effective. Definitely.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to remind you," he apologized, his cheeks burning.

"I think of her often," she responded, a little quietly.

Maybe a piece of candy or something would brighten her spirits again. Char reached into his cloak, but all he found were those darned apples. Oh well. Maybe fruit was the key that opened the door to her heart. You never knew.

"Would you like an apple, too?"

She surprised him again. She pantomimed the centaur, taking the apple from him, mimicking the the animal's blank, stupid gaze.

He laughed, really laughed, with his head thrown back.

"I like you," he announced, without thinking. "I'm quite taken with you."

He was sure the smile on his face was so big that she could see all of his teeth. He didn't much care. He felt so comfortable with her. He felt that if he wanted to, he could speak whatever was on his mind, or tell her stupid jokes or what he was thinking. She wasn't putting on a false front because he was the Prince, she was being herself. He respected her for that.

They walked through the cages of exotic birds, and she was able to copy the way they said the words of the different languages exactly. Char thought that with some practice, she could be speaking fluently in no time. He was amazed. What other facets of her character would be revealed to him next?

She tried to teach him some of the words, but his accent was horrific. She teased him about it for a little, and Char was enjoying himself so much that he hadn't noticed that they were coming upon the Ogre's hut, guarded by soldiers.

They heard a soft voice coming from near the hut, and it was definitely not the Ogre. They heard the voice again. It was very soft, but it sounded upset.

Char, Ella, and the Ogre all saw the small toddler gnome at the same time, and they all realized at the same time that the Ogre could very well reach the child through the window of the hut.

Ella started forward to grab the child, but the Ogre was already reaching out his hairy arm. . .

* * *

**A/N**: I know this isn't the best place to stop, but I wrote all of that in one sitting, so I'm just going to rest there and pick up again in the next chapter. I hope this was a good follow-up! =)


	3. The Letter

**A/N**: I have taken a completely different turn with this chapter. I have decided that it's a bit too monotonous to write out everything from the book except in Char's point of view. So I'm going to skip a bit into the future, to where Char receives Ella's last letter. Also, this is written in 1st person instead of 3rd. I'm sorry if this confuses anyone! Oh, and characters belong to Gail Carson Levine, etc.

(To clarify the scene a little bit, Char is in Ayortha, sitting in his room. He and Ella have been exchanging letters for some time, and have grown closer and closer.)

- - - THE LETTER - - -

I have never felt more alone. So fiercely, utterly, completely alone.

I let out a sigh. Full of loneliness, longing, and all of the other emotions I feel at this moment mixed together. A miserable concoction. I put my hand to my forehead, massaging my temple. My head aches with thoughts of Ella. She fills my head, disturbs my senses, weakens my emotions. She is in my every waking thought, and every dream that fills my head as I sleep. My head and heart are going to burst for want of Ella.

I don't want to be in Ayortha, visiting it's rulers at court. I long to be in Frell, maybe walking through the menagerie with Ella. Or sliding down stair rails with Ella. Or talking with Ella. Or even in my own room at the castle, thinking of Ella, knowing that I will see her very soon. I wish that I were anywhere but here in Ayortha, just as long as I am close to Ella.

I love Ella.

The problem with that is, I don't know if she returns the feeling.

This love is much, much more than one simple sensation. It is a rush of thousands of emotions overtaking me at once, so that I feel as if I am walking on air, or flying. Wonderful, beautiful feelings about a wonderful, beautiful girl.

I wish I knew what she felt.

Certainly we are friends, and very good ones at that. Our correspondence through letters is excellent proof. We tell each other everything through them. If her letters to me ever stopped coming, I don't know what I would do.

Still, letters will never stop the ache of not being near her, in her presence.

I gaze into the fire, glowing red and then orange and yellow, the flames licking at the brick of the chimney. My chamber in the castle in Ayortha is small, but I prefer it that way. There is just enough room here for a four- poster bed, a writing desk, and an easy chair by the fireplace. I am sitting in the easy chair. I have Ella's latest letter in my hand. I have been sitting here for over an hour, hunting through her scrawling handwriting for the smallest clue, the tiniest hint that she has feelings for me. It would make my life so much easier if she did.

I find nothing in the letter of great significance but for these lines:

"I find that I am growing weary of my everyday existence here in Frell. I also find that I am missing you more and more with each passing day, not just because you are my friend, but also because I enjoy your company so much that I feel like a part of me is missing when you are gone."

These words give me courage. I know now that I cannot live another day with this love inside of me, brewing and stewing and never being released from my system. I need desperately to shout it from the rooftops and sing it from the mountains. The fact is, I am hopelessly, completely, and totally head over heels in love with Ella of Frell.

I pick up my pen and some parchment, and the words of my heart flow out into my arm, through my hand, into the pen, and onto the page.

_Dear Ella,_

_Impatience is not usually my weakness. But your letters torment me. They make me long to saddle my horse and ride to Frell, where I would make you explain yourself._

_They are playful, interesting, thoughtful, and (occasionally) serious. I'm overjoyed to receive them, though they bring misery. You say little of your daily life; I have no idea how you occupy yourself. I don't mind; I enjoy guessing at the mystery. But what I really long to know you don't tell either: what you feel, although I've given you hints by the score of my regard._

_You like me. You wouldn't waste time or paper on a being you didn't like. But I think I've loved you since we met at your mother's funeral. I want to be with you forever and beyond, but you write that you are too young to marry or too old or too short or too hungry-until I crumple your letters in despair, only to smooth them out again for a twelfth reading, hunting for hidden meanings._

_Father asks frequently in his letters whether I fancy any Ayorthaian young lady or any in our acquaintance at home. I say no. I suppose I'm confessing another fault: pride. I don't want him to know that I love if my affections are not returned._

_You would charm him, and Mother too. They would be yours completely. As I am._

_What a beautiful bride you'll be, whomever you marry at whatever age. And what a queen if I am the man! Who has your grace? Your expression? Your voice? I could extol your virtues endlessly, but I want you to finish reading and write quickly._

_Today I cannot write of Ayortha or my doings or anything. I can only post this and wait._

_Love (it is such a relief to pen the word!), love, love-_

_Char_

All that I can do now is sit here, with my head in my hands, hoping, praying, dreaming. . . that maybe. . . maybe she cares for me. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can only sit here and wait for her reply.

The letter that will determine my fate.


	4. A Broken Heart

A/N: This chapter continues from where I left off with "The Letter". Everything belongs to Gail Carson Levine, etc.

- - - A BROKEN HEART - - -

_My dear Prince Charmont,_

_Your latest correspondence with my stepsister was recieved by my mother, Dame Olga, and myself. Ella and the cook, Mandy, were not here to except it._

_Ella is absent because she has eloped, taking our cook with her. She left a note which I have enclosed for your perusal._

_You have been much decieved in her. It was her custom to read your letters aloud to us and crow over them, thinking it a feather in her cap to be writing to royalty, such as yourself._

_For awhile, she had ambitions to be queen, but she dispared of it and took another offer. She would go into one of her dreadful rages if she knew the contents of your letter. I do not think she liked living on our generosity, and longed to be able to lord it over us with greater splendor than we could hope for, although we fancy that our stile is very fine._

_Your letter arrived four days after her departure. I know because Demby had a ball that night, and Ella was greatly missed. Her beaux turned to me for consolation, and I gave them the same advice I have for you: Think no more of the minks, because she has already forgotten you._

_I am sorry to dismay you, but I hope you will be consoled by the fond wishes of this admirer._

_Your angel of comfort, Hattie_

- - - - - - - -

_These are the first words I ever penned as a married lady. You know him, but I shall not write his name, only that he is very old and very rich and lives far from Frell. And he is fool enough to make me his bride. Someday, and that day may not be long in coming, I shall be sole mistress of a vast estate. I shall not write again, but look for me. When my husband dies, I shall visit Frell. Should you spy a carriage that surpasses all others, peer inside. You will find me within, smiling at my jewels and laughing at the world-_

_Ella_

* * *

Oh, God.

How could she do this to me? This can't be real. This can't be true. This is some horrible nightmare of my own imagining. Any second now, I will wake up. At any moment, I will wake up and Ella will still be the girl I've always known. The girl I'm in love with. Or, was in love with.

How could I have been so stupid? I fell right into her trap, and all the while, as she was leading me on, she was laughing at me.

I'm a fool.

Maybe this is all a scheme. A terrible, vicious scheme. I wouldn't put it past Hattie to do something like this. Maybe Ella had no part in it. What if she never received my letter? What if it was intercepted somehow? Maybe I should ride to Frell, find out what's going on for myself.

No.

I'm just being foolish again. The last part was in Ella's handwriting. Besides, Hattie is too stupid to concoct such a grand scheme.

Then its true. All of it.

I should never have let myself fall so hard. She had me from the moment I met her. She was so merry and kind-hearted, not to mention funny and beautiful. She seemed to have the best of intentions. She was my match.

What a magnificent actress she is. And what a fool I am.

I'm glad that no one can see me like this. I'm glad I didn't read the message at breakfast. I'm glad I saved it to read alone. If I would have read it while in the company of others, I would have made a complete spectacle of myself.

I put my hand to my cheeks. They are wet with silent tears. I shouldn't be crying, especially not over such a horrible, terrible, monster of a person that is Ella of Frell. I have to keep my dignity. I have to stay strong.

How she would have laughed if she had gotten my letter! All of my proclamations of love, everything I felt. A mockery.

My heart is broken into a million pieces so small, that they can't be fit back together. Only one person can mend it, and she isn't even real. She was a figment of my imagination, a passing breeze, a brief ray of sunlight soon covered by passing clouds. She was the makings of a completely different, manipulative girl.

How I loved her. more than anyone else in the world.

I slumped back into my chair in my chamber, defeated.

I would never love another. As long as I lived, I would only love one imaginary girl.

Gone.


	5. Homecoming

A/N: I had to split the fifth chapter into 2 parts, because otherwise Fanfiction wouldn't let me upload it for I don't know what reason. ?? Anyway, thank you for all of the helpful and kind reviews! I like seeing what other people think. =) I was also kind of re-thinking my decision to skip all of that stuff that happens after the menagerie, but its too late to turn back now. Oh well. (Characters belong to Gail Carson Levine, etc.)  
  
- - - HOMECOMING - - -  
  
The remaining six months of my stay at Ayortha dragged by without much event. Without Ella's letters to entertain me, the rest of my stay was excruciatingly boring. I often wished that I could go out among the common Ayorthaian folk, but duty kept me in the company of the nobles, who always had very (very!) little to say.  
  
I was so lonely, and without a friend to talk to, I longed for home more than anything. Even if it would bring me closer to Ella and possibly more heartache than I could deal with.  
  
And so, I managed to cope with the endless array of Ayorthaian banquets, counsels, and occasional sings, even if through them all I felt like I was half-asleep, or in a waking dream. It seemed like my life was not whole without Ella in it. Even if she was just writing me letters. But I had to keep reminding myself:  
  
"No, Char. That Ella that you knew, she was not real. She didn't exist. Stop torturing yourself. Forget her."  
  
No matter how many times I told myself this, I couldn't forget her. No matter what. It seemed that I was doomed to have the ghost of Ella haunt me forever.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - -  
  
I woke with a start, in my own bed, in my own chamber, in my father's palace in Kyrria. Sweat beaded on my forehead. My heart was beating like a drum.  
  
I was home. I had forgotten where I was. We had arrived at the palace late last night, to my utter relief. The long stay at Ayorthaian court was over.  
  
But oh, what a nightmare.  
  
I had been walking through the menagerie, and I saw Ella, playing with a baby centaur colt. She had been smiling happily (it hurt so much to remember her smile), petting its mane and feeding it pieces of an apple. I had walked up to her, sat down, and she looked at me. I blurted out that I loved her, and she began to change. She turned into an ogre, right before my eyes. "Do you love me now?" she had shrieked, and then she lunged at me.  
  
I sat in my bed a little bit, letting my breathing return to normal. I hated these recurrent nightmares. I was never going to escape her, she was even going to torture me in my dreams!  
  
I started to get out of bed, and then I remembered. Tomorrow was the first of three balls held in honor of my homecoming. . . and during one of the three days, I would also supposedly choose a bride. I groaned, and rubbed my temples. How was I going to deal with all of those fawning maidens, oozing admiration? (I've never understood that, and never will, frankly.) I reluctantly got out of bed, stretched, and donned my everyday tunic. I was not looking forward to all of the preparations involved with these balls. My mother was surely going to keep me busy all morning and afternoon with the fitting of my tunic and whatnot.  
  
"Char, darling!" My mother, Queen Daria, entered my chamber. Her skirts and robes swished as she hurried across the room. She threw her arms about me and squeezed me tightly in a warm, motherly hug. "I'm so glad you're home, dear. Your father and I have missed you so!"  
  
I returned the hug, although she had already smothered me with hugs the night before when I had first arrived home.  
  
"I missed you too, Mother."  
  
After an extra squeeze, she released me. "Are you ready to prepare for your ball? The royal seamstress is waiting to fit you for your tunic. I hope you like blue, it makes you look so dashing, dear."  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever you say, Mother."  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 


	6. The First Ball

A/N: Characters belong to Gail Carson Levine. On with the story!  
  
- - - THE FIRST BALL - - -  
  
I stood at the head of a long line of maidens, all waiting to meet me. I was outfitted in my brand new ocean-blue tunic. Before I had entered the ballroom, my mother had whispered in my ear:  
  
"You look so handsome and dashing, my dear. I'm so proud of you. Whomever you choose will be the luckiest maiden in Kyrria."  
  
I leaned down and hugged her, and I noticed that she had tears sparkling in her eyes. I chuckled to myself a little bit. My mother was so sentimental sometimes.  
  
I must admit, I had not told she nor my father one tiny detail:  
  
I was not going to choose a bride. In fact, I had vowed never to marry. They wouldn't be angry with me when I told them. Just a little disappointed. I guessed my mother would have to rely on my sister for grandchildren.  
  
I was starting to get a little antsy. I had been waiting for what seemed like forever for all of this to start. I just wanted to get it over with. I sighed. I had not even begun to receive all of the maidens, and I could see the line going down the length of the ballroom and out the door. I wished they would hurry up and start the orchestra so that I could begin.  
  
I wondered if Ella and her new husband would be attending? No. I must not think of Ella. Not tonight.  
  
Finally, the orchestra started up, and the first maiden stepped forward. She was smiling so hard it looked like she was in pain. I sighed once again. This was going to be a long night. . .  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
I was extremely tired, and I think I was starting to show it. I had made it a point to be the very example of politeness to all of my guests and the maidens in the receiving line, but it was all starting to get to me.  
  
"Ith thomething the matter, your Highneth?" A maiden wearing a blinding pink dress with a terrible lisp asked. I snapped back to attention immediately. I admit, my mind had started to wander during her endless chatter.  
  
"Oh, no, I'm fine, thank you. Don't worry about me. Please enjoy the rest of the ball."  
  
As the pink lady walked away, the next in line approached me. She was trembling, in what appeared to be extreme and unexplainable fear. I smiled at her warmly, and bowed. She cracked a wavering smile, and started to curtsy. Or, I hoped it was supposed to be a curtsy. As she started to bend, her legs wobbled and she lost her balance. She toppled over, and landed right before my feet. Before I could help her up or say anything, she leapt up, her face crimson, and ran away.  
  
I barely managed to stifle a groan. I quickly ran my hand over my face, and readied my smile for my next guest.  
  
But wait. What was that over there?  
  
My attention was drawn to a corner of the ballroom, where I thought I had seen long, flowing dark hair that looked oddly familiar.  
  
No. It was only a maiden in a green gown, who had obviously been staring, for as soon as I caught her gaze, she looked away.  
  
With a little bit of disappointment, I returned my attention back to the waiting ladies.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
Only one more maiden to meet and greet, and then I could get the rest of the ball over with. I smiled, I was polite, I bowed over her hand, and then the maiden in the green gown came up behind her and became the last one in line.  
  
She was still masked, which I found surprising, because most of the other maidens had removed their own. She was slim, and very graceful with her movements. She swept into one of the smoothest curtsies I had ever seen. I wondered what her features looked like. I searched her face, but could find nothing that gave me a clue, except for her smiling mouth and green eyes; the only two features that were not hidden. I smiled at her. My back was starting to ache a little bit from all of the bowing, but I did it anyway. I didn't want to be rude.  
  
"What is your name, Lady?" I asked, still smiling politely.  
  
"Lela."  
  
There was a moment of slightly uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Do you live here in Frell, Lady Lela?"  
  
"In Bast, Highness."  
  
Well, that was that. Time to get on with the rest of the ball.  
  
"I hope you enjoy the ball and your stay in Frell."  
  
She didn't walk away. Instead, she surprised me.  
  
"Abensa ohudo. Isseni imi essete urebu amouffa."  
  
"You speak Ayorthaian!" Finally, someone interesting!  
  
"Not well," she said. "My uncle was born there. He's a singer. His voice can charm wood."  
  
I smiled at her again, this time genuinely. "I miss their songs. I was glad to leave, but now I miss everything."  
  
She hummed a stanza of a song that I had learned at one of the Ayorthaian sings. I joined in, glad that I could remember the tune. This maiden, Lela, reminded me of someone or something. But who?  
  
I bowed again. Unlike any of the other courtiers, she treated me the way I wished to be treated. Like a normal person. I wanted to know her better. "Would you favor me with a dance?"  
  
She curtsied, and I took her hand. When we touched, I felt a jolt of something go through me. Her hand felt so familiar! I was startled. "Have we met before, Lady?"  
  
"I've never left Bast, but I've longed to see Frell my whole life."  
  
I nodded, intrigued by everything that was going on. We started to dance. I don't know why, but it felt right dancing with her. What was happening? Despite all of the questions going through my mind, I was glad of one thing: to have found a friend.  
  
The dance ended. "I love a gavotte," she said, her cheeks below the mask flushed. "The rush, the sweep, the whoosh!" She was smiling.  
  
I looked at her, a little eagerly. "It's the same with stair rails, the same feeling." What was I saying? "Do you like to slide?"  
  
"No, Majesty. I'm terrified of heights."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Why did I ask her that? I was so caught up in the moment, I was talking crazy. Now I knew who she reminded me of. But that was impossible.  
  
"Do you?"  
  
I was jerked back to the present.  
  
"Do I what?"  
  
"Like to slide down stair rails?"  
  
"Oh yes. I used to."  
  
"I wish I could enjoy it. This fear of heights is an affliction."  
  
She reminded me of someone in some ways, but not in others. I was acting like a fool again. I nodded.  
  
But she surprised me again.  
  
"Especially, as I've grown taller."  
  
An unexpected joke. I laughed, and appreciated her good humor. But the clock struck half after eleven, and I realized that I had been neglecting my other guests. Mother wouldn't be very pleased. I explained this to Lela, and she graciously understood.  
  
"I'll look for you later," I said to Lela. I waved, and she left my sight. I hoped I would see her again.  
  
Maybe the next balls wouldn't be as tedious as I thought. 


	7. The Perfect Host

A/N: Characters belong to Gail Carson Levine. On with the story!  
  
- - - THE PERFECT HOST - - -  
  
The day of the second ball. I was practically finished with all of the nonsense. But not quite.  
  
My mother had been hounding me all day about the first ball. Had I met any interesting young ladies? Did I have a good time? Was the food and company up to speed? What about that lovely golden-haired maiden? Wasn't she simply wonderful?  
  
Yes. Wonderful. Fantastic. I was having the time of my life. (I would say anything to get her to leave me alone.) But in truth, I was on the verge of being miserable. No matter how lovely the maidens were, or how interesting or smart, there was just no comparison. But I wouldn't admit to myself who I was comparing them all to.  
  
My tunic for that night had already been prepared. It was a deeper shade of blue than last night's tunic, with gold trim. (My mother kept insisting that my best color was blue. She could have outfitted me in pastel yellow, for all I cared.) The whole day was spent preparing. And then, it was time to begin.  
  
I entered the ballroom, my new shoes squeaking a little bit as I headed toward my station. (Standing to Father's left side, with Mother sitting to his right, with Cecilia standing to her right.) Father gave me a small nod and a wink, and the courtiers began to arrive.  
  
There was no receiving line this time, thank God, but I was expected to "mingle" and attend to my guests once the music started up for the dancing. It was a party in my honor, after all. Or that's what I had to keep telling myself. In order to keep up a good show, I decided to ask a few maidens to dance. At first I looked for the maiden called Lela, but I couldn't see her anywhere. So, I settled on the golden-haired maiden who had also made me laugh the night before.  
  
We danced, and she was lovely, but my mind was on other things (or other people), and I believe she could tell. It was hard to stay an attentive and polite host with dark flowing hair and green eyes and a sparkling smile and a beautiful laugh running through my head at every moment.  
  
The dance ended, and the golden-haired maiden called Rose curtsied and said "It was a pleasure dancing with you tonight, Your Majesty." She smiled, revealing perfect, even teeth.  
  
I bowed, smiled, said all of the appropriate words, and then went looking for Lela again.  
  
I was searching for Lela over the heads of the courtiers when I felt something shove me in the backside. I turned around, a little startled, and found myself looking at none other than Olive, one of Ella's step sisters. (Olive??) Her face was furrowed into a frown. Her cheeks were a bit too rosy, as if she had partaken in too much ale.  
  
"Dance. Now," she said loudly, and then with one quick movement she grabbed my arm and pulled me into the circling dancers. I stumbled after her, as she shoved her way to the center of the dance floor.  
  
She obviously did not know the dance. She stepped on my feet about five times, bonked into the couple dancing next to us, and kind of swayed around like she was in a trance. All I could do was roll my eyes and stare at the space above her head, praying for the dance to be over quickly. And, when it finally WAS over, I thanked her and made to run away as fast as possible, but she grabbed my arm and said, "We have to dance again!"  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
A/N: I can't wait to get to the reconciliation scene between Char and Ella. I might even go as far as writing about their wedding and their first born, but we'll see. I'm also thinking about doing the parts between the menagerie and the letter, but I will have to think on it more.  
  
Sorry I've been so lousy at writing chapters more quickly. I'll try to write as often as I can, but that's all I can promise. =)  
  
Thanks for all of the lovely reviews! 


	8. A Dance and a Song

A/N: Characters belong to Gail Carson Levine. (I can't believe I finished this chapter so quickly. I'm on a roll!)  
  
- - - A DANCE AND A SONG - - -  
  
After the dancing escapade with Olive (which I finally managed to escape when I convinced her I had other guests to attend to), I looked for Lela again. I thought that if I found her, I would be able to begin to enjoy myself. But, she was nowhere to be found. I had been searching for 10 minutes, which was probably a good length of time I should have spent entertaining guests. I decided (unenthusiastically) that I should head back towards the dance floor and find another partner.  
  
I was whirling around the dance floor with my raven-haired maiden when I saw her. Lela of Bast, that is. I managed to catch her eye and tried to convey a message.  
  
"Wait for me," I mouthed over my partner's shoulder. She understood right away, and nodded. I breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
Another twirl or two, a side step, a clasping of hands, and the dance ended. I bowed to my partner, and hurried towards where Lela was standing. I was glad she had waited.  
  
"Will you dance?," I asked, offering her my arm. "I looked for you."  
  
She accepted my arm, and we entered the dance.  
  
"I was here all the while," she said. "I watched you."  
  
Was she hiding? Why didn't I see her?  
  
I was confused. But instead I asked her, "What did you see?"  
  
"An excellent host who had little real enjoyment in the ball."  
  
Very intuitive. Very.  
  
"Was it so apparent?" I laughed a little bit as I said this. After all, I had been practically consumed with putting on a good show for my father and mother. And still was.  
  
"It was to me."  
  
Well, at least she cared enough to notice.  
  
"Will you be here tomorrow?" I asked. "My father has asked me to perform an Ayorthaian song." And I was dreading it. I needed all of the moral support I could get.  
  
"When will you sing?"  
  
"Sometime late. If I'm lucky, many of my guests will have gone. They needn't all hear their future ruler disgrace himself," I said, laughing a little.  
  
"There will be no disgrace, not if you were taught in Ayortha. What will you sing?"  
  
"A homecoming song."  
  
I leaned forward a little bit and sang only so she could hear:  
  
"Oak, granite,  
  
Lilies by the road,  
  
Remember me?  
  
I remember you.  
  
Clouds brushing  
  
Clover hills,  
  
Remember me?  
  
Sister, child,  
  
Grown tall,  
  
Remember me?  
  
I remember you."  
  
I stopped, right as the dance ended. I noticed that she was blushing a little bit, under her mask. I wondered why she still wore it. I hadn't even noticed that she still had it on till now.  
  
"There's more. I want you to hear it. Will you?"  
  
"I'll be delighted to, but I must leave now tonight. I'm expected by twelve."  
  
So early? I was hoping that I could talk with her more, get to know her better. Maybe have her tell me about Bast. Have a couple more dances. I thought. . .  
  
"Oh. I'd hoped. . . I'm sorry. I mustn't. . ." I was slightly flustered. So instead, I bowed.  
  
She curtsied. "Till tomorrow, Majesty."  
  
"One last thing," I said, catching her hand in mine. "Please call me Char."  
  
"Oh. . ." She looked a little more than surprised by my gesture. "Thank you Your Ma- er, I mean, Char."  
  
I smiled at her, very generously. And then she left me.  
  
And as soon as Lela left, Hattie rushed at me, her elaborate curls (which I must admit, looked a little more than ridiculous) bouncing along.  
  
"Your Highness!" she breathed. "Prince Charmont!" She caught up with me, and grabbed my arm. I discreetly tried to pull away, but she noticed and clasped my arm tighter.  
  
"Oh Your Majesty, I am so glad that I caught up with you!" She smirked, revealing large front teeth that somehow reminded me of a beaver. Or a rabbit.  
  
"There is something that I simply MUST discuss with you! Its that maiden, Lela. I'm sure she's up to no good."  
  
I simply looked at her. What was she talking about?  
  
"Its that mask that she wears. Every other maiden has removed hers. Surely you've noticed that she is almost the only one who has not yet unmasked?"  
  
"Well, yes, but-"  
  
She rushed on. "Some wenches will stoop to anything to intrigue a man. I should be devastated if I had to wear a mask in order to be interesting."  
  
I sighed. I was aching all over, and I didn't want to hear or deal with this. Lela was my friend, and I was not going to hear Hattie speak harshly of her.  
  
"Thank you for your concern, Hattie. But it is not necessary, because Lela is just not that type of person--"  
  
"But Your Highness! That mask could conceal anything! A deformity, advancing age, the face of a known bandit. . . If I were a sovereign, I would order her to remove her mask."  
  
This infuriated me. If she were a sovereign, every Kyrrian would wish she'd DON one!  
  
Hattie knew nothing about Lela. I had to struggle to control myself.  
  
My voice was very quiet with my controlled anger. "Once again, thank you for your concern, Hattie. But it is not necessary. I don't care about her appearance. Now if you'll excuse me, the ball is almost over and I must see to my other guests."  
  
I wrenched my arm from her grasp, turned on my heel and left her there, her mouth open in a round "O" shape.  
  
- - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 


	9. The Last Ball

A/N: Characters belong to Gail Carson Levine.  
  
- - - THE LAST BALL - - -  
  
The day of the third ball dawned bright and clear. As I lay in my bed that morning, I wished with all of my heart that things were different. Bright sunlight from my window streamed in across my bed, promising a beautiful day. I should have felt happy. Instead, I felt only melancholy. Tonight I would have to say goodbye to Lela. Perhaps not forever, because I wanted to remain friends with her. But there was another person I was going to say goodbye to. For good this time. And thinking about it only made my heart ache.  
  
Later, I walked through the gardens on the castle grounds. I tried to clear my head, to breathe the fresh air, to feel the sunshine warm my face. I guess I was preparing myself for my life after the balls. After all, I was eighteen years old. My father wasn't as young as he used to be. I had to prepare for ruling Kyrria. Alone.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
The third and final ball was here. I was standing on the steps to the entrance to the palace, waiting for Lela to arrive. I wanted to spend the entire ball with her. My princely duties could go hang themselves. I was determined to actually enjoy myself.  
  
An orange carriage pulled up, the color of pumpkins in autumn. I chuckled to myself a little bit, imagining what stately lady had insisted her carriage be such a strange color. I raised my eyebrows when I saw that Lela was inside that carriage.  
  
I rushed to help her out before the coachman could beat me to the task. I opened the carriage door, and she emerged, looking quite beautiful, I must say. She was still wearing her mask, but her dress was a shimmering white, and her skin seemed to glow. Her dark hair against the white was the perfect contrast.  
  
"You look splendid," I said, and bowed.  
  
She smiled at me warmly, and took my arm. Together we climbed the steps. She held the hemline of her dress up with her free hand.  
  
"Your carriage is an unusual color."  
  
"Not in Bast," she said.  
  
"May I visit you there?"  
  
"Bast would be honored." She smiled again.  
  
"And you?"  
  
"I'd be honored too."  
  
"If I'm going to visit your family, you should meet mine." Mother would be absolutely delighted with Lela. And Father needed proof that I hadn't been completely aloof during the balls.  
  
"I'll be delighted, someday."  
  
I smiled at her. "Now is a good time. They're nearby; you're nearby."  
  
A slight bit of panic edged her voice. "Now? King Jerrold?"  
  
"That's who my father is." I chuckled. I knew my father was quite intimidating, but only if you didn't know him well.  
  
"But. . . "  
  
"He's kind to everyone except ogres. You needn't worry," I assured her.  
  
When we neared my parents, Father rose from his seat, beaming. Mother's smile was huge.  
  
I noticed that Lela was blushing a little bit. I smiled.  
  
"Mother, Father, may I introduce Lady Lela, my new friend and acquaintance from Bast, where the carriages are orange."  
  
"Lady Lela," Father boomed. He took Lela's hand. "Welcome to Frell."  
  
Mother eagerly embraced Lela in a hug. "Most welcome," she said. "I've waited long to meet the maiden my son loves."  
  
I blushed furiously. This was just like my mother, to embarrass me in her loving way.  
  
"I don't love her Mother," I stammered. "That is, I like her, certainly." Over my mother's shoulder I could see Lela smiling at me, laughing to herself.  
  
Mother held Lela's shoulders with both hands, searching her face.  
  
"I can't tell through the mask, but you remind me of a lady I admired. She had the most playful spirit I ever new."  
  
When my mother said the words "playful spirit", the only maiden who popped into my head was Ella. I shook my head, scattering thoughts of jokes and laughter and a pretty smile.  
  
"Lady Lela is proof that I haven't been polite and distant to everyone," I said.  
  
"Excellent proof," said Father. "Bring along more proof and we'll be convinced." Father raised his eyebrows at me.  
  
"We should return to my guests," I said hurriedly.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - -  
  
"Save a dance for me a little later, won't you? Just now, I'd better be polite and distant some more." I had promised myself that I would spend the whole of the ball with Lela, but our meeting with Mother and Father had induced guilt in me. Just a little bit of time with guests, and the rest of the ball would be devoted to her.  
  
She nodded, half smiling, and I left her. I decided that I would engage in one dance with a lonely maiden I saw standing by herself, and I would talk with some other courtiers a bit before heading back to Lela.  
  
The maiden looked relieved and surprised when I asked for a dance. We whirled around the floor together, and she laughed a little bit. It was one of the faster dances. When it was over, I decided that I had better find Lela, since time was ticking away. After some searching, I saw her standing amongst some other maidens, watching the dancing. Her shimmering white dress stood out against the blues and pinks of the other maiden's gowns.  
  
"Lela, there you are!" I took her hand. "Now dance with me. Your prince commands you to. I want to spend the rest of the ball with you."  
  
She was smiling at me. I noticed Hattie standing a few feet away from Lela. Was that a look of jealousy I saw on her face? I bowed, and Lela curtsied. I took Lela's hand again, and led her away from Hattie, into the dance.  
  
I pulled Lela closer, as the dance required. "They are all asking about you," I told her. "'Who is this mysterious stranger?' they say."  
  
"The maiden who wears a mask," she replied quietly.  
  
"Why. . ." I stopped. I was about to ask her why she wore it. But it would be too rude. I didn't want to offend her.  
  
I changed the subject quickly, to more comfortable territory.  
  
But then I saw a tear streak down Lela's cheek. Oh, no. Did I offend her with something I said? Was she feeling ill? I hoped she was okay.  
  
"Lela, I'm so sorry!" I said, looking down at her face.  
  
She looked a little startled. "Why? What were you saying? I'm the one to apologize. I wasn't listening. I was thinking how sad I'd be to leave Frell. No more balls every night." Her voice was a little shaky.  
  
"But you can come back, can't you?" Of course she could. Why couldn't she?  
  
"I suppose. But it won't be the same. You can never go back to a moment when you were happy."  
  
"That's true," I said. She looked so sad. I wondered why. I had a feeling the explanation she gave me wasn't the real reason.  
  
The dance ended. I needed to get out of the ballroom. And Lela looked like she needed some air.  
  
"Would you like to go outside? Every time the musicians start up, I'm reminded of all the maidens with whom I should be dancing."  
  
She nodded, looking a little grateful. I led her outside, into the gardens and the fresh air.  
  
- - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
A/N: Almost there! In the next chapter, Ella is revealed. Stay tuned. . . 


	10. Finally, Ella

A/N: Characters belong to Gail Carson Levine.  
  
- - - FINALLY, ELLA - - -  
  
Lela and I were strolling through the castle gardens. Her arm was tucked safely in mine, and as we walked we chatted about this and that. But I soon noticed that I was really the only one doing all of the chatting. Lela would respond now and then with a nod or a quick word, but her heart did not seem to be in it. I noticed that she seemed a little sad again. I would quickly glance at her once every while, just to make sure she was doing okay.  
  
After awhile of me holding up the conversation, and Lela sighing and nodding once in awhile, I decided that it was time to go back inside.  
  
"That's enough," I said. "I can face them now." I tightened my hold on Lela's arm a little bit, and led her gently back into the ballroom. She was worrying me a little bit now. I thought I had seen her cry again, but I couldn't be sure if it was just my imagination or a trick of the moonlight. Anyway, it would be rude to call her on it.  
  
Once inside, we danced again. I made sure to watch Lela's face for any sign that she might need to step outside again. I didn't know why, but she seemed especially fragile on this particular night.  
  
I was supposed to sing tonight. I had almost forgotten about it, except I had noticed that a young Ayorthaian girl was singing with the string quartet that was playing. She had a lovely voice, and it made me wonder how everyone would accept their prince and his performance.  
  
"Soon it will be time for me to sing," I said. "After that I'll either be surrounded by worshipping music lovers or shunned by all." I smiled to myself. I knew my voice wasn't bad at all, but still, I wondered.  
  
"Surrounded," Lela said. I began to smile at her. "And I would never shun you."  
  
"I wonder. You may shun me if you know the truth."  
  
I took a deep breath. I had been waiting for an opportunity to tell her all night. And now was as good a time as ever.  
  
"I apologize if I unintentionally raised your expectations, but I've resolved never to marry." I searched her face, trying to figure out what she would say. It was hard, what with her mask covering any expression, whether it may be angry or surprised. The only clue I had was the way she was slightly smiling.  
  
I raised my eyebrows. This was not what I had expected.  
  
"You didn't mislead me," she said. "I've only been saving stories for home. I'll tell them, 'The prince said thus-and-so to me, and I said thus-and-so back to him. And, Mother, I made him laugh. I made our prince laugh. And Father, he danced with me-one night with almost no one except me.' 'What did he wear?' my sister will want to know. 'Did he have his sword with him always?' Father will ask."  
  
Lela had no idea what her words meant to me. I tightened my arms around her a little bit. She was a very precious friend, indeed.  
  
"Marriage is supposed to be forever, but friendship can be forever too. Will you-"  
  
I never finished my sentence. Before I could do anything, before I could stop her, Hattie came up behind Lela and snatched off her mask. And, for an instant, before she quickly covered her face with her hands, I saw it. I saw the identity she had been hiding all along.  
  
"Ella!" Hattie shrieked.  
  
"Ella?" I gasped. Shock and wonder and happiness and anger all filled my voice at once.  
  
She broke away from me, and ran. I made to run after her, to catch her and make her explain herself, but Hattie tripped me. I fell, and soon about one hundred maidens were crouched around me, squealing and generally making an unnecessary fuss. I leaped up, and the maidens gave me some space. I started walking very quickly toward the doors. Hattie ran up to me.  
  
"Your Highness! . . . Your Highness??"  
  
I ignored her. The love of my life had just run out that door, she was not married to a rich nobleman (this I knew now for certain), and I was NOT going to let her get away from me again. No. Matter. What.  
  
I ran out the castle doors, down the steps, and that's when I saw it.  
  
It was one of Ella's glass slippers. One that belonged to the pair that we had found together, that night at the old castle.  
  
I picked it up, held it in my hand. It was so tiny.  
  
I slipped it into a pocket in my cloak.  
  
I had to find her.  
  
- - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
Minutes later, my knights and I were riding through the streets of Frell in the royal carriage. I kept urging the coachman to make the horses go faster.  
  
Sir Stephan gently chided me, "Now, Young Sir, it won't do you any good to tire out those horses. They'll take you as fast as they can manage comfortably. Don't look so worried! Your young Ogre Tamer isn't going anywhere."  
  
Leave it to Sir Stephan to be worried about horses at such a time!  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
Finally, we arrived at Ella's manor. We had been let inside by one of the servants, who looked more than mildly surprised to see our royal entourage at the door.  
  
"I want to see everyone in this entire household," I told the servant. "Immediately."  
  
The servant ran off, spurred by the impatience in my voice.  
  
My thoughts wouldn't settle. Why had Ella lied to me? Was it all Hattie's trick after all? Did she love me as I loved her? I had nothing but hope welling up in me. If only. . .  
  
The household began to file into the front hall. Once they were all assembled, I searched their faces. I couldn't see Ella. My knights and I walked in their midst, searching.  
  
"Here's a maid," said Sir Stephan.  
  
My heart did a back-flip.  
  
"Come lass," he said, and pulled Ella to me from the crowd of servants.  
  
She was beautiful, as always, but she looked terrified. She was also wearing servant's garb and a dirty kerchief over her hair, and her face was smudged with soot. My head was reeling.  
  
"Ella! Ella? Why are you dressed so?" My hands were shaking, I was so nervous.  
  
"Your Majesty, I'm-"  
  
"That's only Cinders, the scullery maid," interjected Hattie. "Sire, would you care for a refreshment now you're here?"  
  
What? How could Ella be a scullery maid?  
  
"She's a scullery maid?"  
  
"A scullery maid. Of no account. But our cook, Mandy, has cakes fit for a prince."  
  
I stepped closer to Ella, tried to read her face. She tried to go for the door, but Sir Stephan still hadn't let go of her hand.  
  
"Lass," I said gently, so I didn't frighten her anymore. "I won't hurt you, no matter what." I cupped my hand underneath her chin, and tilted her face up to mine.  
  
I knew it was Ella. I knew from the moment her mask slipped off at the ball. She couldn't pretend with me. I let my hand linger on her face, then dropped it at my side. I slipped my other hand inside my cloak, and pulled out the slipper. I saw Ella's face change once she caught sight of it.  
  
"It belonged to Ella, and it will fit her alone, whether she is a scullery maid or a duchess," I said.  
  
One of the knights brought a chair.  
  
"That's my slipper," said Hattie quickly. "It's been missing for years."  
  
I couldn't believe Hattie was trying this now. The wench.  
  
"Your feet are too big," said Olive.  
  
"Try it," I said, suppressing a laugh.  
  
"I lost it because it kept falling off," said Hattie, smiling with her rabbit teeth. She removed her own footwear, and then tried to put on Ella's slipper. She couldn't even get her big toe in, her feet were that huge.  
  
"I'm younger than Hattie," said Olive. "So my feet are smaller. Probably."  
  
Olive's feet were even bigger than Hattie's.  
  
Finally, it was Ella's turn. She sat in the chair, and extended her tiny foot. I gently guided the slipper on. It was a perfect fit, of course.  
  
I still knelt before Ella, my face close to hers. I said softly, so that only she could hear, "You needn't be Ella if you don't want to be."  
  
She looked as if she were going to burst into tears.  
  
"I'm not," she choked, but the tears came anyway.  
  
I looked into her eyes, hope filling me up and giving me courage.  
  
"That letter was rubbish. A trick." I gave Hattie a quick glare, and turned back to Ella.  
  
She was so beautiful and sweet. I had to ask.  
  
"Do you love me? Tell me." I wasn't aware of the rest of the household anymore. I only had eyes for Ella.  
  
"I do," she said, smiling at me with tears running down her face. I wanted to gather her up in my arms, I wanted to kiss her, I wanted to dance with joy. She loved me.  
  
"Then marry me!" I said, everything I felt spilling out of me and into my voice.  
  
She nodded. I was smiling. I felt like I hadn't smiled like this in years. I took her hand in mine, and held it as she kept weeping.  
  
"Don't marry him, Ella," Hattie said quickly.  
  
I ignored Hattie. Ella loved me. Ella wanted to marry me. Ella was my soul mate, and nothing else mattered anymore.  
  
Ella withdrew her hand from mine. "I can't," she said.  
  
"Hattie, don't be a fool," Mum Olga snapped at her eldest daughter. "Don't you want to be stepsister to the queen and make her give you whatever you like?" She smiled at Ella evilly. "His Highness is kind enough to want to marry you, Ella, my sweet."  
  
I was staring at Ella's face, and she was at me. Ella loved me. Me and only me. How happy I could make her. . . How happy she could make me! If only she would marry me. . .  
  
"Marry me Ella," I said again, whispering. "Say you'll marry me." My heart was going to burst.  
  
Her eyes welled up again, and I could see her love for me in them. She closed them briefly, drawing in deep breaths. She seemed to be struggling with something. I put my hand on her shoulder. I didn't understand any of this.  
  
Her eyes were open now, and she was staring right at me, but she wasn't at the same time. She couldn't see me. She was focused on something inside herself, something deep and important. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her hand was clamped over her mouth, and she was rocking back and forth in her chair. I held her other hand, still kneeling beside her. I wouldn't leave her.  
  
Suddenly, her eyes lost their glazed look, and a fierce and determined fire burned within them.  
  
"No," she shouted, "I won't marry you. I won't do it. No one can force me!" She leaped up, and I was almost knocked backward. I stood, also.  
  
I stared at her. "Who would force you?" Shock filled my voice.  
  
"No matter who. I won't, I won't. They can't make me, no one can make me. I won't marry you."  
  
I was speechless. Dumbfounded.  
  
"She'll marry you," said Olive, laughing. "You told her to. She has to listen." She turned to Ella. "Marry him and give me your money!"  
  
This was ridiculous!  
  
"I won't! Stop ordering me to!"  
  
"She doesn't have to marry me," I said quietly.  
  
"Ella, go to your room," Hattie said. "His Majesty can have no further need of you."  
  
What was Hattie talking about?  
  
"I have great need of her," I said, giving Hattie another glare.  
  
"Hush Hattie!" said Ella. "I don't want to go to my room. Everyone must know I shan't marry the prince."  
  
I could only watch in wonderment as Ella ran to the door, opened it, and shouted into the night air, "I shan't marry the prince!" She then ran back to me, threw her arms around my neck, and said, "I shan't marry you."  
  
It felt so wonderful to have her in my arms. She kissed my cheek, and I turned her head with my hand and kissed her lips. I held onto her, my arms about her waist.  
  
"Go to your room this instant. I command you," Hattie said shrilly.  
  
I pulled away from Ella, who still had her arms around my neck, and held her hands.  
  
"Why won't you marry me?" I asked, puzzled. "Why not, if you love me?"  
  
"I'm cursed. You wouldn't be safe if I were your wife."  
  
Cursed? What did she mean? What kind of curse? Before I could ask, I saw her cook, Mandy, pushing her way through the servants.  
  
But then I looked at Ella again, and she was smiling at me, the love in her eyes plain to see. I was sure mine looked the same. I still held her hands.  
  
The cook reached us. "You're free. The curse is over, love," she said to Ella, hugging her. "Your rescued yourself when you rescued the prince. I'm that proud and glad, sweet, I could shout."  
  
My smile widened into a grin. Ella looked so happy, happier than I had ever seen her. I made to pull her into my arms, but she acted before I could. She tore off the dirty kerchief that hid her beautiful hair, and curtsied to me. I raised my eyebrows, cocked my head to one side.  
  
"When you asked for my hand a few minutes ago, I was still too young to marry."  
  
I was grinning, all of the joy in my heart couldn't be expressed at that moment.  
  
"I'm older now, so much older that not only can I marry, but I can beg you to marry me." She knelt before me and took my hand.  
  
Before she could say anything else, I pulled her up, took her in my arms, and kissed her. Our kiss was sweet, loving, and filled with all of the other things that we had not been able to express to each other until that very moment. Our kiss ended, and I gently ran my hand over her cheek, and brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen in her face. She was mine now, forever. And I was hers.  
  
She looked up at me, and her eyes twinkled.  
  
"I'll take that as a yes then?" she asked mischievously.  
  
Together our laughter rang throughout the manor, an omen for the happy years that were to come our way.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
A/N: Oh, I just loved writing that chapter! Sigh. . . I'm definitely going to write about the wedding and such, but I'm going to be going on vacation starting tomorrow, so that will not be up for about 2 weeks. I hope I satisfied everybody who was waiting for so long for this chapter.  
  
Thanks for all of the reviews, and I'll be back in 2 weeks! 


	11. Love and Preparations

A/N: Characters belong to Gail Carson Levine. Yay! I love romance. . . * sigh *  
  
- - - LOVE AND PREPARATIONS - - -  
  
"Ella, I insist! You must come stay at the castle."  
  
Ella looked up at me, her green eyes probing.  
  
"Char. . . Are you sure? I don't want to be a nuisance to your parents or anything. . . especially now that we're engaged."  
  
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I lowered my voice to a whisper, inclining my head towards hers.  
  
"Ella. . . I've been without you for so long. . . Now that we're finally together, I don't want to let you out of my sight, not for a moment."  
  
"Oh, Char. I don't want to leave you, either. We've been through so much. . . Of course I'll stay at the castle," she said, putting her arms about my neck. "Anyway, I couldn't stay here with * them *." She pointed at Hattie and Olive, who were both staring at Ella as if she were an ogre.  
  
I laughed, and kissed Ella's cheek, which made Hattie glower at us even more.  
  
- - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
All the arrangements had been made for Ella to stay at the castle. Mother had a chamber fixed up especially for her, and it was decided that Ella would reside there until our wedding.  
  
Our wedding. I couldn't believe that we were actually going to get married. After all that we had been through, after all of the lies and all of the hurt, we had finally made it this far.  
  
Ella and I were absolutely blissful. Every morning after breakfast, we would stroll through the castle gardens holding hands, talking about everything under the sun. Whether it was what kind of flowers would be at our wedding, how many children we wanted to have (I wanted six; Ella tried to get me down to four, but soon we compromised on five), how we first met, or our childhood memories, we never ran out of things to talk about.  
  
Sometimes we would play pranks on the servants. (this was all Ella's idea, of course) Once we switched the flour with the baking soda when Mandy was baking rolls. We never laughed so hard as when Mandy opened the oven door and the rolls exploded, flinging dough all over the kitchen.  
  
Mandy easily cleaned up the mess with small magic, but we were still thoroughly scolded. (With Ella and I bursting into peals of laughter whenever Mandy said the words "doughy mess")  
  
The days passed in this way, one after the next, until there was only one week left until our wedding.  
  
- - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
"Oh dear. No, this just won't do." My mother plucked at the frilly lace edging the collar on my tunic. My wedding tunic, that is. I had tried on at least a dozen, and none of them satisfied my mother.  
  
"Its much too. . . what's the word I'm looking for?"  
  
"Girlish?" I supplied, trying to move my arms but failing dreadfully because there were too many pleats in the sleeves, constricting my movement.  
  
"Now Char," my mother said, giving me one of her disapproving looks. "Its just a little. . . gaudy. That's all. We need something simpler," she said, looking over at the royal seamstress.  
  
"Maybe if we just removed some of the lace, Your Majesty?"  
  
I rolled my eyes. This was going to take all day. I wondered how Ella was faring with the fitting of her wedding dress. I knew she was going to look absolutely beautiful, no matter what she was wearing.  
  
"No, no, no. This color is all wrong. Who ever heard of a young prince wearing pastel purple to his own wedding? He simply must wear a shade of blue. Blue is Char's best color!" My mother was getting a little hysterical.  
  
Finally, I was outfitted in a simple white tunic with ocean blue trim and breeches. Mother said that the blue matched the color of my eyes exactly. She said I looked "absolutely handsome and dashing".  
  
"But then, you always look handsome and dashing, darling." My mother was looking at me dreamily, probably thinking about all of the grandchildren she was going to get out of my marriage to Ella.  
  
My mother never failed to amuse me.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
I was lying in my bed. I couldn't sleep. It was about two in the morning. I couldn't stop thinking about the wedding. That Ella and I were going to be married, and how much I loved her. I wished that she was awake too. I wanted to see her lovely face, touch her hand, make sure this dream was still a reality.  
  
"Char? Are you awake?"  
  
I sat up immediately, my heart pounding. I saw Ella, standing beside the door in her white nightgown, ghostly pale in the moonlight.  
  
"Ella?" I whispered. "Is that you?"  
  
She came over to my bed, and climbed onto the quilt beside me, resting her head on my chest. I put my arms around her, my hands stroking her long hair.  
  
"Is everything okay?" I said, my voice hushed.  
  
"I couldn't sleep. I hope I didn't wake you. I was lying awake thinking about you, and me, and the wedding. . . I just needed to come see you."  
  
"You didn't wake me. I was thinking about all of that too. I'm glad you came," I said.  
  
I was more than glad. It was strange. Even when she was only a few rooms down from me, my heart still ached for her.  
  
"I can't wait until we're married, Char. It feels like I've been waiting for this forever, and now its almost here." She lifted her head so our eyes could meet. "I love you so much."  
  
"I love you, too," I said. "More than anything in the world."  
  
She smiled, and I leaned forward a little bit. Our lips met in a sweet, soft kiss. She settled her head back onto my chest, and soon I could hear her breathing deeply. After a few minutes she was fast asleep.  
  
I sighed, and pulled my arms around her a little tighter. Before I knew it I had drifted off myself, and both of us were dreaming of what was to come for us in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 


	12. Wedding Woes

A/N: Characters belong to Gail Carson Levine. This chapter has even more fluffy goodness. Yay! Basically I am now living out my love life through Ella and Char. I am pathetic. But enjoy anyway!  
  
- - - WEDDING WOES - - -  
  
It was the day before the wedding. And my mother was in a frenzy.  
  
"Ethel, please tell me that Ella's wedding gown will be ready by tonight. How long can a few simple alterations take? . . . Ethel? Are you listening to me?"  
  
"Er-- yes, um, Your Highness. Tonight. Of course." Ethel, the royal seamstress, tottered a little bit, and let out a small burp. "Oh!" She giggled. "I'm terribly s-sorry, um, Your Majesty . . . for my, uh, rudeness." She covered her mouth with her hand and almost fell over.  
  
My mother was furious. Because Ethel, the best seamstress in all of Kyrria, was obviously very drunk.  
  
I could barely suppress my laugher. Everyone knew that Ethel liked ale, but we didn't know exactly how much. Until now.  
  
"Prince Charmont of Kyrria! This is not funny, not funny at all! Tomorrow is the biggest day of your life, and it is about to be ruined! And all you can do is laugh? Your mother and Queen commands you to stop laughing!"  
  
"Mother. . ." I burst into another fit of laughter. I couldn't wait to tell Ella about this. Ethel was now laying on the floor, drunkenly giggling and burping every now and then.  
  
My mother sighed and rubbed her temples.  
  
"You know what? I'm just going to let your father deal with this. I've had enough." And with that, my mother turned and left the room.  
  
"Right then. Just one moment, Prince Charmont, and your wedding gown will be ready. Just let me find my needle," Ethel slurred, as she started crawling around on the floor, searching for her "needle". Suddenly, she looked up at me.  
  
"You're going to look so pretty!" She smiled dreamily.  
  
I'm pretty sure my laughter could be heard throughout the entire kingdom.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
"Ella! Ella, are you in here?" Tonight was the wedding dinner and rehearsal, and Ella and I were going to enter the dining hall together.  
  
"Um. . . just a second Char! I'll be right there. Wait! Don't open the door!"  
  
It was too late. I had already opened the door to her chamber and poked my head in.  
  
For a microsecond I saw a flash of white, and then Ella covered herself with her dressing gown.  
  
"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry, Ella. I had no idea you were changing. I'm sorry. I'll just wait in the hall. I'm sorry." I could feel my cheeks burning. We were about to be married, but we were still very (very!) modest with each other.  
  
"No, Char. Its okay. I was just trying on my wedding gown. And you're not supposed to see me in my wedding gown until the wedding, remember?"  
  
I just stood there, grinning at her, my hand on the doorknob.  
  
She walked over to where I was standing, and gently pushed me out the door. She smiled up at me, and kissed my cheek. "I'm going to change back into my everyday dress. You wait here for me, okay?"  
  
I was still grinning. "Right. Okay. Take your time."  
  
A few minutes later she emerged, wearing the dress I liked best on her. It was a gorgeous green, which matched her eyes exactly.  
  
"You look lovely," I said, taking her hand.  
  
She laughed, and I was reminded of when we first met. When she first smiled at me.  
  
We walked down the hall, hand in hand. I stopped her at the edge of the staircase.  
  
"Are you ready for all of this? I mean, all of the pomp and circumstance that comes with being married to a prince? I mean, to myself. What I really want to say is, if you're having any second thoughts. . ."  
  
"Char." Ella was looking up at me, a little smile on her face, shaking her head, as if she couldn't believe how stupid I was.  
  
"I love you. I want to marry you. And I'm not having second thoughts. I'm ready."  
  
Relief washed over me. I quickly pulled her into a tight hug, startling her a little bit.  
  
"By this time tomorrow night, you'll be my princess," I whispered into her hair.  
  
"Not if Hattie has anything to do with it," she whispered back, her voice full of emotion. Laughter and love.  
  
I wanted to laugh at her joke, but I knew she was crying. It was so like her, to try to laugh her feelings away . . . even her deepest ones. I held her away from me, wiping away her tears with my free hand.  
  
"Why are you crying?" I asked softly.  
  
"Because I'm so happy," she said, smiling through her tears.  
  
I pulled her back into my arms.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
A/N: I love writing corny romantic scenes! *sigh*  
  
Thanks for all of the reviews. The next chapter is coming soon. =) 


	13. A Royal Affair

A/N: Characters belong to Gail Carson Levine. If you don't like fluffy romance and happy endings, I suggest you don't read. (I certainly do. Hehe)  
  
- - - A ROYAL AFFAIR - - -  
  
Today was the day.  
  
Ella and I were finally getting married.  
  
It was happening. Everything was falling into place.  
  
By some miracle, Mother had managed to get Ella's gown finished in time. The chapel was ready, decorated with lilies and streaming ribbons. After the ceremony, everyone would head to the old castle for the reception, which would include food, drink, and dancing. For our honeymoon, Ella and I were going to visit Ayortha. Every last detail had been arranged.  
  
I was more than ready.  
  
Everyone was assembled in the chapel. Some of the Elves were present, and a Giantess that had made Ella's acquaintance was watching over the animal guest, Apple. Even Ella's best friend Arieda, all the way from Ayortha, had made it to our wedding.  
  
We were about to begin.  
  
I looked over at my parents. Father was nodding and smiling at me, and Mother was weeping into her handkerchief.  
  
A lone violin began playing the melody to mine and Ella's favorite Ayorthaian song. All heads turned to the back of the chapel, including mine. Ella was now standing in that exact spot, beaming.  
  
"Oak, granite,  
  
Lilies by the road,  
  
Remember me?  
  
I remember you."  
  
Ella was walking down the aisle. She looked more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. She wore a wreath of white lilies in her dark hair, which had been left unbound and flowing. Her gown was very simple and white with a long train. Around her neck she wore her mother's necklace. Her bouquet was an assortment of different types of lilies. Her cheeks were rosy, and her bright green eyes never left mine as she walked towards me down the aisle.  
  
"Clouds brushing  
  
Clover hills,  
  
Remember me?"  
  
Ella and I only had eyes for each other. I forgot everything; Ella was the only thing that was real. When I saw her, I saw our future together. We were smiling at one another, but we were more than happy. We were rapturous, joyful.  
  
"Sister, child,  
  
Grown tall,  
  
Remember me?  
  
I remember you."  
  
Ella had reached me. We turned so that we faced each other. I reached out and took her hands.  
  
"You're beautiful," I whispered.  
  
Her eyes sparkled at me.  
  
"You look very dashing indeed, Prince Charmont," she whispered back laughingly.  
  
I could only stifle my laughter as the Priest motioned for us to kneel so we could take our vows.  
  
"We have gathered here today to unite this man and this woman together in holy matrimony. Their love for each other is as pure and white as the new snow that falls in early winter. It is unmarked and untainted, true and faithful. We pray that it will last throughout the rest of their lives together."  
  
Then Ella and I said our vows.  
  
"Two hearts,  
  
Two minds,  
  
Two spirits,  
  
One love that will join us together,  
  
So that two become one.  
  
One heart,  
  
One mind,  
  
One spirit,  
  
As long as we both shall live.  
  
Whether we are  
  
Rich,  
  
Poor,  
  
Healthy,  
  
Ill,  
  
Weak,  
  
Or strong.  
  
We pledge to love,  
  
Honor,  
  
And trust one another  
  
Forever."  
  
We kissed, our first kiss as husband and wife, a binding kiss, a kiss that pledged us to one another for the rest of our lives.  
  
And so, without much further ado, we were married.  
  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
Ella and I arrived at the reception soon after the ceremony was over. All of the guests were already inside the main ballroom, waiting for our arrival.  
  
I was about to grasp the handle of one of the French doors, when Ella stopped me.  
  
"Wait."  
  
I turned back to her, one eyebrow raised.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Look at the stair rail," she said, pointing.  
  
It was the stair rail that we had slid down together at her father and step mother's reception. I smiled, remembering. I looked back at Ella. She had a very sly expression on her face, indeed.  
  
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked, that sly look still very prominent.  
  
"Aren't you worried about your wedding gown?"  
  
"Oh, hang my wedding gown! I'm sure it will be fine. And besides, its not like I'll ever wear it again."  
  
"The stair rail DOES look freshly polished," I said. "Perfect for sliding."  
  
"I agree. Lets go!" Ella grabbed my hand, and together we ran up the stairs. According to tradition, I rode down first, so I could catch her at the bottom. To be a little sentimental, it was our first slide together as husband and wife.  
  
After two trips down the rail, we were ready to go into our reception.  
  
"Wait, Char."  
  
"What? You want to slide one more time?" I asked eagerly.  
  
She laughed. "No, silly! You got some stair rail polish on the seat of your breeches!"  
  
We were still laughing when we finally made our entrance.  
  
- - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
  
A/N: THE END.  
  
Yes, its finished. I have come to the point where I feel like I can't add on to this anymore. My happy, fluffy, ending is complete. I am satisfied. I hope everyone (to some degree?) enjoyed my fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. AND I want to thank everyone who reviewed, your opinions/everything meant the world to a first-time fanfiction-er like me. =) I hope to write another Ella fanfic in the somewhat near future. (Yes, I know that was extremely vague. Sorry.) Until then!  
  
~~~ Grace3 ~~~ 


End file.
